Where I Belong

I wrote this piece for a contest. I haven't sent it in because I'm unsure. I want your honest opinion about it.

For years I've waited for so long To figure out where I belong. At first I thought I'd get away For wasting my time of day. My parents had told me my freshman year

I must do something during my high school career. From sports to cheer, or any clubs free If I don't choose, I take ROTC. With no experience of any above I couldn't decide which one to love.

But one day, during the summer I got a call from a director of drummers. I went to visit with my mom The band director who seemed like da bomb. He questioned and pleaded with all of his might

To get me to join the band with invite. Unsure what to say I said ok. I'd give it a try I walked into the kennels, all quiet and shy.

After the music, drill and show And after learning the right way to blow. I learned to play an instrument and learned how to march I learned to hold it right and have no back arch. I gained some sight of new music and friends

And I didn't have to worry of new fashions and trends. They all loved me for who I was That by the third year I've earned some applause. At first I thought I'd hate this bit But instead I learned to master mellophone and pit.

Sure you get the farmer tans And even the feel of sweaty hands. But nothing compares with those that stand When you finish a show for marching band.

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